Moments in Love: Teresa's Hand
by Entwife Incognito
Summary: Lisbon's brother Stanley might expect more of Jane as a man than Lisbon's other brothers. More than she may even expect of him. The couple stays at the Stanley Lisbon family home in the course of a case, and their lives are altered forever. 1-shot. A little fluffy. Warning! Adult sexual situations. If you don't like that, don't read this. Disclaimer: I own nothing of The Mentalist.


_**A/N Shout out to anagcorpas on T**__**witter for reminding me that brother Stanley might expect more of Jane as a man than Lisbon's other brothers.**_

_**I really enjoyed writing this story! The 'M' part is at the end, for those who want to avoid it. The story still makes sense, hopefully. **_

It was one thing to meet Jimmy, another of Lisbon's brothers, as a part of a murder investigation. But it was a totally new level to meet the oldest of the "boys," Stanley.

Jimmy had a spotty, shady past as had Tommy, the youngest. But Stanley. Stanley was a sober, serious family man.

Another gaping hole in his knowledge of Lisbon and her closely held background. Did she get her physical appearance from her mother or her father? Whichever parent it was, Tommy and Jimmy were of the same genome. Stanley had taken the other parent's genes.

Teresa flew into her brother's bear hug. He squeezed her tight, closing his eyes. "Big sis, big sis," he repeated, whispering as his eyes moistened and reddened.

True, his hair was dark, but it was straight and his eyes brown, not shades of green like the rest of the siblings. He was taller than the other brothers, slender bordering on thin. Overlarge feet and hands finished the ends of his limbs. His hair was thinning on top and he went with a slight comb-over rather than a crew cut or shave. With metal-framed large bifocal glasses, he looked every bit "the dad."

Stanley was studying him as closely as Jane studied Stanley. When he noticed, Jane tamped down a ripple of nervousness. This was Lisbon's oldest brother and even though she was the eldest of the family, the oldest boy also held special status in Irish-descent families.

Stanley stepped forward with his hand out.

"Stanley Lisbon."

Jane shook a hand as large as his own, but knottier. An odd, slightly squeamish feeling threatened to saturate him, remembering that this man's sister voiced incredible pleasure in admiring and putting his own large hands to good use on her body. The other brothers had proportionately smaller hands than Jane. Most men did. "Patrick Jane. Good to meet you."

Stanley gave him a short nod, then held his arm out. "This is my wife, Eileen."

A smiling woman with light brown hair and pretty blue eyes walked into his protective embrace. Jane smiled softly and greeted her with a gentle handshake and a few courteous words. Stanley had brought an English woman into the family, although her name gave away Irish heritage in her own family line.

"My kids . . . " Stanley named two boys and the oldest, a girl of about thirteen.

Calm, bright faces eyed him curiously. Jane expected at least one to ask if he would be their Uncle Patrick, but the children were politely quiet. The daughter looked like a miniature Teresa, exquisite to Jane's eyes. The youngest boy looked like his mother and the oldest boy, his father.

"Beautiful family, Stanley," Jane said.

"Thank you."

'The Talk' was bound to happen, as it did at dusk after supper. Stanley offered Jane a beer and led him to the back yard, winter starlight sparkling overhead. The air was pleasantly crisp. The men stood side by side, a pace between them, looking into the distance as Stanley filled a pipe with pleasant-smelling tobacco leaf.

"So . . . You're Patrick Jane."

The muscles at the base of Jane's neck tightened. It was unfathomable what Teresa might have said about him to her brother over the years. He hoped she had updated him recently. "That, I am."

"It hasn't always been roses between you and my big sister."

"That's very true."

"Are you a married man, Patrick?" He voiced what anyone would wonder, already knowing it was not true. This Jane needed a dousing of cold water! Stanley had no reason to spare him. His sister's honor was far more important! Did the man have no respect for her at all?

Jane turned to Stanley. "No. I'm not." The implication against Lisbon angered him and his answer was curt.

Stanley turned toward Jane, looked at his left hand, arched an eyebrow and looked at the sky. This Patrick Jane was somewhat blind to himself. The man rankled that Stanley could assume Teresa was spoiling herself by consorting with a married man, but apparently had not realized that anyone would naturally assume that very thing!

"I'm a widower. Surely Teresa has told you that."

"Aye. She's told me the tragic story. My condolences to you."

Aye? There was a slight lilt to Stanley's speech, something none of the other siblings had. "Thanks. It was a long time ago, now. If it hadn't been for Teresa's help . . . her constancy, I don't think I would have made it."

"Aye. She's relentless, that one."

"It makes her a great cop."

"And a great woman."

"No doubt about that."

"I can't imagine anything more harsh for a man than losing his family." A direct look at Jane this time, showing his sincerity.

"I've never experienced anything worse."

There was silence as they put a good dent in their beers.

"We set great store by our big sister, Patrick. Just like she guided you, she guided us through very difficult waters."

"She's told me a little about that. I'm sorry for the loss of your parents."

"And yours."

"Yeah. My dad may as well be dead. Haven't seen him since I was seventeen. Not such a great father, when I had him."

"I guess we have that in common." Stanley finished his beer and fished another from the ice chest, handing a fresh one to Jane. "Our Teresa, though . . . she's our gem, our everything. Sister. Mother. Friend."

A slight feeling of dread slithered up Jane's spine, its forked tongue flicking the base of his skull. He turned to Stanley and looked directly into his eyes, finding them black steel. Jane straightened his spine and stretched his shoulders. "I assure you. My intentions toward your big sister are honorable. I'd die before I let anything happen to her."

"So you say."

"You doubt me?" Jane's face went dark red, discernible in the light filtering through the sliding patio doors. His eyebrows screwed together and his jaw drew tight.

"Only a married man wears his ring."

"My wife is d-!"

"Dead. Yes, I know. But maybe not to you."

"Yes. Even to me."

"We'll not have our sister second-best to any woman."

"That's a lie!" Jane faced him fully now, his fists tight at his side. "You don't know me. Teresa _does_."

"She's my beloved sister. And I won't let you slight her, Patrick Jane, even if you beat me into the ground."

Jane made his hands relax and took several slow breaths to calm himself. "It insults me that you imply that I denigrate my Teresa with this ring. Perhaps she understands things that you and your brothers do not."

"Your Teresa, is she? I speak of practical matters. Sometimes people in love are not practical."

"I'm glad you recognize the love between us. Perhaps you will allow that there are things between a man and a woman that only they understand."

"That's true, aye." Stanley nodded and puffed on his pipe. "Now, as to the practical . . . Teresa shouldn't have to explain anything to anybody, like she does that ring. Her path and standing should be clear for all to see. Past wondering. Teresa Lisbon is a woman to be honored. And respected."

Fuck! Were they going to argue over a dowry next? Would the brothers present him with 'a good stick, to beat the lovely lady?' It wasn't often Jane felt lost in a conversation. But this man and his sister were important people, incredibly important to his happiness. He would not ruin anything for Teresa, or the relationship he had forged with her at great cost to them both, by creating a barrier with her brother if he could avoid it.

"If I could take you for a married man, others will, Patrick. And what does that say about our Teresa, without a ring on her own finger?"

They both knew Stanley had not taken him for a married man. But his point was irrefutable. Why should Teresa have _anything_ to explain about her status with him, anywhere?

"Stanley, could we take up our talk later? It's been a long day traveling and I'd like to get some rest. Perhaps in the morning?"

"That'd be fine, Patrick. Are you an early riser?"

"Earlier than Teresa, yes." He looked at Stanley with a start. "Are Teresa and I staying together, I mean sleeping together, here?"

"I'm sorry, no. Not with the kids in the house. Too many questions and conflicts with their catechism, if you know what I mean."

Jane stared at him, mouth parted in silence for a moment. He cleared his throat. "Yes. Where do you have me, then?"

He got the den with the sleeper sofa. "I'll just get my things from Teresa. And kiss her goodnight." His tone made it clear there would be no argument.

"Of course." His sister's Patrick had a lot to think over, no doubt. Alone was best for that.

Teresa clasped his shoulders and kissed his cheek. "That was a long conversation. How'd it go? What was it about?"

"Different than I expected."

"Oh? Did you get along?"

"We understood each other."

"That doesn't sound so friendly, Patrick."

"We can't sleep together tonight. Stanley . . . the kids . . ."

"Oh. Well, I guess I expected that."

"You could have warned me."

"Stop distracting me. What did you and Stanley talk about?"

"He loves you very much." He pulled her close. "And he knows the love between you and me."

She snuggled her head against his chest and smiled. "That's nice."

"I'll tell you more tomorrow. I'm beat. Give me a nice kiss to soothe my loneliness."

They broke a few minutes later. Jane pulled her hips close. "I said soothe. I didn't say give me a diehard boner before sending me away."

"You know I can't stop kissing you while you're still kissing me."

"I know. I can't stop, either." He went in for another, but she pulled away with a warning smile.

"Goodnight, Patrick. I love you."

"I love you, Teresa."

Jane spent the night staring at the ceiling, staring at the carpet and the wall, changing from his right side to his left, laying his head at alternate ends of the couch. By morning, he understood the situation very clearly, and knew what he needed to do. Luckily, it was what he wanted to do, as well.

After he cleaned up, he went to the kitchen. Eileen was making pancakes. A stack was piling up for the adults while the kids finished their breakfast in the dining room. The oldest took the youngest off to clean up and the middle boy followed along. When he glanced at his mother, she gave him a subtle nod. Pre-arranged exit.

A pot of fresh coffee spread its aroma through the kitchen. Stanley, however, was making tea.

"Cuppa?" he asked Jane.

"Delighted!"

"Irish breakfast."

"Perfect!" Jane rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. He held the cup and saucer Stanley gave him while the man carried his set and the teapot to the table where milk and sugar waited.

"Why, Patrick. I think you've a bit of the Irish in you."

"Descent. Both my parents." Jane sat and prepared his tea, milk first.

Stanley smiled and nodded approval. "Only way."

Eileen filled their plates with pancakes and sausage, then sat down to her own plate and made her tea, milk first.

The three adults smiled at each other, lifting their cups in salute. Jane held his tea under his nose and sniffed. "Ahhh! If there's a better way to start a morning, I don't know it."

"Too right," said Eileen.

Stanley said grace and they dug into breakfast.

"Teresa's coffee will be getting scorched if she doesn't get up soon."

"Don't fret, Eileen." Stanley smiled and winked at his table companions. "You know our sister will barely see the brew much less taste the nuances of the bean while she pours that first cup down her gullet."

"That's true enough," Eileen conceded with a chuckle. "Poor overworked thing. I hope she sleeps 'til noon."

"As do I. But for another reason." Folding his hands together, Stanley pushed his plate back and rested them on the table.

All business.

Eileen glanced quickly at Jane and averted her eyes. "Ah, yes."

Jane spoke up. "Don't hurry off. I'll help you with the clean up."

"In a little while, Patrick, thank you. You've got better things to do, just now." She tipped her chin at her husband, prepared a cup of tea to take with her, got up from the table and left the room.

"You seem to have a lot of the Irish in you, yourself, Stanley."

The man nodded and smiled. "Yes. I guess I took that after my mother. I worshipped the woman, especially when . . . well, when I lost her."

"I see. I hadn't noticed it so much in Tommy or Lisbon." Not at all, in fact.

"It was too hard to let go. This is my way of keeping her alive in me, I suppose."

Jane nodded silently.

"Teresa's a womanl, Patrick. I'm the oldest son." He winked. "She wouldn't like to hear me say that . . ."

"A special place in any family with a strong Irish influence."

"Very. Place . . . and responsibility."

"Yes. I wanted to talk to you about that, Stanley."

Stanley had fixed himself another cup of tea and set the pot near Patrick. Making himself a cup was just the stall Jane needed to get thought and word together. Taking a long sip, he placed the cup in its saucer, rattling just a bit.

This man held the power here. He and Teresa would do as they pleased, ultimately. But Jane wanted to honor the conventions he knew Stanley expected. Lisbon's family needed to feel good about their sister's chosen companion. He would do it for her, for their life together. The same would be expected of him in the carnie life. Since he and Angela had eloped, never honoring this ritual, it had not struck him as a priority.

But more, he knew he'd been properly cuffed and curbed by Stanley for his sister's sake. It was right and proper for what he saw as Jane's lack of respect. Although Jane had never meant disrespect, he'd forgotten, hadn't considered what he might be putting Lisbon through. Stanley was right. Teresa shouldn't have to explain anything to anybody, whether she cared or not.

Jane fingered his ring, then gripped it, twisting it gently from his finger. The gold flashed when he carefully held up the band for Stanley to see. Then he set it firmly on the table. He looked Stanley directly in the eye, but said nothing.

When he looked up from the ring, Stanley cocked his head slightly and waited for Patrick to speak.

"You are right, of course, Stanley, and I gladly yield to your judgment. I, I did not mean to dishonor your sister in this way. Her status should have been first in my mind. Not my own."

"Aye. I'm glad to know you're a man of sense, Patrick, and that you give Teresa the respect she is due."

"I ask your forgiveness for this oversight. It, well, it shouldn't have happened."

"Grief marks the best of us. Maims, sometimes. I forgive you. As my sister and the good Lord would require of me. Even so, I give it freely. Without thought to them. I know something of your grief."

"Yes. But the time to indulge mine has passed."

"Aye, it's a man's place you would have with my sister, is it not?"

"She'll kill me when she knows . . . knows that I'm asking you, as the eldest brother, for her hand in marriage." The look he gave Stanley begged for mercy. "I haven't even proposed to her yet."

"First things first, Patrick. The blessing _and then_ the proposal. Teresa will get over it. And we'll both be receiving a bit of her displeasure, no doubt. She's a proud and independent woman."

"Two of the many things that make me love her. You, you give your permission for me to ask her to marry me, then?"

"Yes. I do now. My blessing on the marriage, should she accept you. Didn't mean to be so hard on you-."

"It's Teresa. Nothing is too hard."

Stanley stood and offered his hand. Jane stood and shook it.

"Eileen!" he called. "We're done now."

She popped into the archway from the dining room.

Jane smiled. Hiding just at the wall to listen, no doubt.

Rushing to him, she grasped his arms and kissed each cheek, eyes moist and a wobbly smile. She said not a word and stepped away to clear the table. Jane took his ring, placing it in his pocket, then helped Eileen as he had promised.

Lisbon came into the kitchen, still adorably disheveled from her night. Jane wanted to sweep her up and take her to bed. Instead, he greeted her with a kiss, holding her head gently between his hands to plant a good one on her.

"Ja-ane-." Her voice was a sing-song stage whisper. "Eileen, thanks for having my coffee. I'll just take a cup with me to the bathroom while I clean up. Don't bother fixing me a plate. I'll dig through the fridge when I finish."

The woman smiled at her. "As if that's news, Teresa." She couldn't stop herself from pulling her sister-in-law into a hug with two smacking kisses on her cheeks.

"Mmmmm. That's why I really come here, Eileen." Her answer was a mug of coffee placed in hand, a quick turn-around, a little push between the shoulders and a slap on the rump to send Teresa on her way.

Lisbon winked at Jane as she approached. "She thinks I'm one of her kids."

He slapped her rump as she went by.

"Ow! That's twice on the same cheek! Love me a little less, guys," she tossed over her shoulder.

"Impossible!" all three chorused behind her.

Jane followed and caught her as she was gathering her things for the bathroom. "C'mere! I owe you a heap of kisses."

"What's up? I can tell you didn't sleep a wink. Yet you're happy as a puppy."

"Stanley and I had a talk."

"Oh?"

"_The_ talk."

Lisbon's mouth wriggled as she went for the tease. "_The_ talk? About the birds and the bees? Honestly, Patrick, I think you could give lessons."

"I'll give you a lesson if you let me in the bathroom with you!"

"Stop that! You'll have me flat on my back, begging for it. And what will Stanley have to say about that? In his own house, no less."

"With children about, I know. We may be here for days!"

"There's a gas station a few blocks away. I could get the key to that bathroom, if your mind is set on porcelain and tile."

"Gas station bathroom. Okay. Now you've completely put me off."

Distraction. "So, what was 'The Talk' about, then?"

"You."

"Me?" Lisbon's mind put her on alert. "You haven't been telling my secrets . . .?"

Laughing, Jane picked her up and whirled them around. "Stanley set me straight on a few things."

"No! Oh my god. He's not playing head of the family, is he? The big-headed Irish twerp! _I_ took care of _him_ . . . and all the rest of them!"

"And he loves you for it. Worships you, actually, I think."

Lisbon quirked a smile.

"And, well he might! Who wouldn't worship you, Teresa? Once having even a little of your love."

"My whole heart, and every inch of me, loves you." She kissed him lavishly.

"So you can imagine how much I worship and adore you."

Teresa gave him a quick hug and pulled away. "All this sap . . . what's going on?"

"Sap? This is candy corn compared to the ambrosia of words we offer in each other's arms."

"And now, poetry." She flipped the back of her hand in the air, indicating his exit. "Skedaddle, Jane. I'm headed to the shower."

Jane backed up and let her pass, smirking.

"And come out of my room! I don't want to come back to you naked and ready on my bed."

"Yes, you do."

"Out. Now. Go cool down on the porch or something."

"I'll let you ride me. As hard as you want."

Lisbon's cheeks flushed raspberry pink as she pushed him out the door and closed it behind them.

The entire family was in the middle of a late lunch at the kitchen table when Lisbon noticed Jane's missing ring. She'd been secretly watching him use his fork, diminutive in his large beautiful hands. Washing down her last mouthful of lunch with some iced tea, she choked before the chance to take a good second look.

Jane pulled her up, slapping her on the back as she coughed and wheezed into normal breathing. Taking his left hand, she squeezed his ring finger hard enough to make him give her a mildly reproachful look. She widened her eyes and stared at his finger, arching a brow. He patted his pants pocket. She sat down with a thud, mouth gaping slightly as she looked into Jane's eyes while they crinkled with his happy smile.

What the hell? Bolting up, she patted Jane's arm. "Get up, honey. I want to run to the grocery store and pick up stuff for dinner. Come with me."

Honey? Eyes half-lidded, Jane glanced her way, then smiled at Stanley and Eileen, shrugging magnanimously when he stood. "Excuse us. Coming, honey."

Hustling him out the door, she rounded the car for the driver's seat.

Jane caught her arm. "No, uh, honey. I'll drive. You seem a little excited." Uh-oh. Her pissed-off face, as identifiable as a full moon. He led her to the passenger side. She dragged her scraping feet in a token of resistance.

She didn't exactly slam the car door, then launched a small tirade. "What's the idea of taking off your ring and not telling me, Jane?"

"You act like you never notice it. I didn't think it was that big a deal."

Lisbon pulled his arm before he could turn the ignition, pointing a finger in his face. "Don't. Lie. To me!"

"Honey . . ."

"Stop calling me that."

"You did it first."

She pinched him. Hard.

"Ow!"

"You've lost your mind completely! Or, you're toying with me, just for the pleasure of torment!"

"All right." Jane reached to draw her into an embrace but she batted his hands away.

"No!"

Catching movement from the corner of her eye, Lisbon turned to see the entire Stanley Lisbon family at the massive living room window, watching. They waved tentatively. Every one of them. "Oh, drive!"

"Don't be upset. I took off my ring. I feel good about it! It's great news, right?"

"Yes. I don't know." Looking at Jane, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What did you and Stanley talk about?"

"Okay, Teresa. He made it clear that wearing this ring was an impossible barrier to him giving consent for your hand."

"For my what? Pull over!" Her voice was loud and her face was red.

"Our talk last night was . . . difficult. He caught me by surprise. Very clear about his position. Made me angry. I begged off, asking to continue this morning. We did."

Lisbon pressed him for every detail.

"So, it's just as well I slept by myself because I realized the context and expectations of your family. Stanley was right. At this point in our relationship, I was disrespecting you for a need I no longer had. So, I took off the ring. Now, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop blistering my ass."

"Oh, you don't know what blistered is, Patrick Jane!" She stopped, face almost shimmering like a red light.

"Oh? Now don't tease me with your boss and sass, Teresa. You know it excites me." His face took on heat as he smiled and looked at her lips. "I want to know what a blistered ass is like when _you_ give it."

"Just ask Stanley! He knows!"

"I'm sure we're not talking about the same experience." He leaned toward her. "I'm going to take you in this car and imagine it while I pin you to the back seat."

"Ja-ane. Stop. I'm serious."

"Does the ring really matter that much to you, off or on?"

"Of course it matters. But not as much to me as it does to you."

"Regardless, Teresa, it's off and it's staying off. I won't have you needing to explain anything to anyone, least of all how it is that you're not _really_ with a married man, and certainly not to your own family! How could I? Why didn't I think of it? You deserve all the respect I can show. I'm too selfish and self-indulgent. Please forgive me, Teresa."

"Don't Jane. Of course I forgive you. It's off now. Let's not talk about it anymore."

"Good idea." He put his hand on the ignition. "Let's take them all out to dinner tonight. I want to do something else right now." He pulled into the street.

"Are you taking us to a hotel, Jane?"

"What a lovely idea! You always know just how to make me happy, Teresa. But no." He turned to her, leering. "Keep that thought in your back pocket, though." Turning to the road, his voice was thoughtfully low. "Something a little more respectable is in order, I think."

"Westfield Shoppingtown? How'd you know about this place, Jane?"

"I do know how to use the Google on my phone."

They didn't go into the mall right away. Patrick wanted to walk the lovely grounds that were Shoppingtown's unique and lauded asset, now with wide swaths of glistening snow shrinking under the yellow sun, already heading for its low path to night.

After a brief stroll, they sat on a bench under the broad canopy of a leafless tree. The bare branches were dazzling under the sunny winter sky. Before Teresa could take two breaths, Patrick was on one knee, holding her left hand.

No matter how often a person play-acts every possible scenario for this event, it is a riveting moment in reality.

Patrick looked into huge green eyes, completely vulnerable to him, her lips parted in surprise if not a little fear. Her chest moved, chasing her deepening breath. With his lightest touch, he thumbed the inside of her wrist, the thrum of her pulse pounding him even so. His heart was racing, too, a delirium of happiness washing through him and shining through his wet eyes.

"Teresa-."

"Huh?" she blurted too quickly, startled by the break in the silence.

"Teresa Lisbon. You know how much I love you. I'd be stupid not to know how much you love me."

She nodded, keeping her eyes on his.

"The only thing that makes sense is that we become husband and wife, to live the rest of our lives together." Pausing to gather his courage and start breathing again, he asked simply, "Will you marry me?"

When she held his hand with both of hers, he brought his other hand up, too, waiting for her answer.

"Yes. Yes, Patrick Jane, I will marry you and we will be husband and wife."

They could have been standing under a spread of cherry blossoms, the snow its fallen petals, for all the spring in their hearts. Patrick lifted her, feet dangling contentedly as they filled each other with love, their eager succulent lips the conduit.

Finally, breathless and euphoric, he let her slide along his body to the ground. He took her hand. "Come with me."

Teresa gasped as Patrick drew her to the doors of Robbins Brothers jewelry store. Its header said 'the engagement ring store.' It sounded cheesy, but she had never seen so many beautiful rings in one place, many dazzling her eye and filling her with pleasure.

Patrick had already told her of his . . . wealth. He wasn't just rich. "We can look somewhere else . . . travel to New York or Paris, if you like. You can get an idea tonight, that seems right somehow. Then—"

"No. I don't want to wait. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. When we go to Paris or, or anywhere, if you see something you like better, we can get it! And if you change your mind everywhere we go, you can have as many engagement rings as you like. A different one for every day!"

"Don't be silly. This is the night. Our night. This is where we are. No other ring could mean more to me than what we choose tonight."

Teresa made him immensely happy in that moment. She could always change her mind later.

She found she liked the Simon G. cases the best, trying on many rings until she came to one of rose gold. So old fashioned and beautiful! But when she saw the white gold set, with a large round diamond, she was riveted, struck by lightning. The bands were paved with bright little diamonds, even a circle of them around the large, deeply luminous center stone.

"Oh my god, Jane! It's all diamonds!"

"Two hundred fifty-two of them, according to the leaflet. Do you like it?"

She turned her hand under the store's showcase lighting, the white gold ring set sparkling on her finger. The moon had fallen there, into twin rivers of starlight. "I, I . . . I can't breathe."

Jane covered her hand. "Look away. Look at me."

Teresa shifted tearful eyes. Her pale skin yielded to all the freckles on her lovely face and she turned to gaze into eyes like the ocean. Sliding his fingers into her hair, caressing her scalp as they traveled, Patrick leaned in for a tender kiss.

"Will you wear this ring? My ring? Be my fiancée and then my wife?"

"Ooohhh, yes. I love you, Patrick. So deep I don't know where it ends. I don't think it does."

"Beautiful, wonderful . . . charming, fiery, adorable woman. I love you with everything I am." Luckily he stopped before she started to giggle. "I guess we can be sappy for this occasion."

"I think sappy is required for this occasion."

They found an appropriate wedding ring for Patrick. A heavy, unadorned white gold band. Teresa wore her engagement ring out of the store and took her wedding band with its river of starlight in the box.

Oh, the fuss, the tears, the cheering, the hugs and handshakes and clappings on the shoulder, the marveling over the beauty of Teresa's ring when they walked into the Stanley Lisbon family home! Champagne, sparkling apple juice for the kids! Patrick and Teresa had come home without groceries and their faculties for cooking temporarily short-circuited. But no one minded. They sent for the family's favorite delivery, Chicago deep-dish pizza, a large antipasto salad, plenty of Coca Cola and beer. It was the most festive of nights!

Both had tearful faces and overheated bodies when they parted from their goodnight kiss at bedtime. They decided it would reflect badly on them, to Stanley and his family, if the newly promised couple went off to a hotel for the unstated but known purpose of consummating their engagement. Patrick and Teresa had to sleep separately under Stanley's roof until marriage vows had been said.

_His mouth was warm and filled with her soft probing tongue. Arms like lead couldn't lift to reach her, draw her onto his body, prepare to make love to her. When she said his name it echoed in his head, far away but he couldn't turn to follow her voice. He knew it was Teresa, her touch, her whispering words, her taste. Her hand! It wrapped him. In his dream he felt like newly forged steel. He would burn her. Shit, he would come all over her! Managing to lift his hand to stop hers, he heard, 'Come with me.'_

_He was walking, stumbling as she anchored his arm across her shoulders. And then he was . . . _

Awake.

"Stand up, Patrick. Walk. We're going to the car."

"The car? Did we get a case?" Why was he so hard?

She giggled. "No! Don't you feel this?" Cupping her hand, she stroked his length, wrapped her hand around him through his pajamas and squeezed.

"Ah-hoh, hoh! Oh, god. You're going to finish me off in the kitchen?" He turned to the table and fumbled with his waistband, waiting for her to hop up.

She tugged him towards the sliding patio door. "No, you idiot! Come on! Be quiet. We have to go around the house."

Door unlocked, she pulled and they slipped outdoors, slinking clumsily along the outside wall. Suddenly they were in grass.

"Oh! That's wet! And cold. What are we doing?"

"Going to the car. Wake up, damn it!" She couldn't help but laugh, biting her lip to keep it from turning into a fit of giggles. She'd never seen him quite this groggy but he must be making up for the sleep he'd lost the night before. The events of the last twenty-four hours would exhaust even Patrick Jane.

They rounded the corner to see their mid-size rental car in the driveway. Outside the gate, Lisbon stopped and made him take several deep breaths in the brisk midnight air.

Suddenly his head cleared. He started to shiver. "Shit! Let's get in the car!"

"Now you've got it. Come on!"

She opened the door but wouldn't let him get in until she had his pants to his knees. "I'm glad you're not wearing any underwear. Push the seat back as far as it will go."

"Ah, ah, ah! Damn! The seat is freezing cold on my bare butt!" Now fully aware and ready for what their midnight trek was about, he rasped, "Get your pants down and get in here. All the way off! You need to be able to move everything because I won't be able to do much."

Lisbon left her pajama bottoms and panties on the concrete while Jane motored the seat back. Then, she hopped onto his legs and pulled the door shut. Jane had lost a little elevation in the cold confusion. Lisbon took care of that while Jane tested her readiness, increased it with his fingers and thumb.

Teresa slid onto the tower between Patrick's legs like she was hot butter inside. They both groaned. Filling his hands with her fleshy cheeks, he pulled her hips forward, allowing her the angle he knew she loved. He was rewarded with a high squeak, followed by movement and relieved sighing. She arched her back to accommodate the protruding steering wheel.

"Teresa, I want to come so bad, right now."

"Just keep holding me at that angle and we'll both be there in no time. Make me slide up and down, hard!"

Tightening his grip, he followed the undulation of her hips, keeping her tight to his body. When she was ready, she pushed her shoulders to the steering wheel, her hips gliding his length until she almost sang the approach of her release. Jane huffed and groaned, his head thrown back, nostrils filled with the scent of their joining, until her muscles gripped him and her body started to pulse. Shoving her to his root, he softly bit low on her chest where she could cover, sucking and moaning under the throes of his own release.

"That was heaven. I needed you so bad." Taking his hands from her hips, he lifted her breasts to his mouth for a lazy caress, sucking the nipples tenderly.

"Oooohhhh, that feels good." But Teresa pulled away, tugging her shirt down. "We need to get back inside."

When she had her clothes on, her bare feet danced on the cold concrete while Patrick got out of the car, pulled his pants up and shut the door.

Looking at the car, he chuckled. "The windows are totally fogged. I wonder how we're going to explain frost on the inside." He was distracted by the flash of her ring. Lifting her hand, he kissed it. "I can't believe I'm here."

She ran her fingers through his curls and petted his head. "I can't either. We're lucky, so lucky."

"Yeah . . . come on. We need to get you out of this cold. Picking her up with one arm, he let her legs flail until she found purchase around his waist, her wet core pressed against his hip.

He put her in bed and tucked her in. Staring in wonder at her, pale freckled skin, big round eyes, hair flounced on the pillow, Patrick had no words to express his love. He kissed her cheeks, caressed her forehead and let it go at that. "Goodnight, my love. See you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Patrick." She kissed his fingers and let him go.

"Same time tomorrow?"

"It's a date. If you wake first, come and get me."

Jane slipped silently to his sofa bed and snuggled in with a pillow hugged to his chest. It had been a great day. And there would be many more, he was sure.


End file.
